


a world of our own

by deariemate



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Happy Ending, Language, Mild Sexual Content, mild violence, traveling circus au, warning: animal death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:05:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deariemate/pseuds/deariemate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were plenty of days when she'd dream of leaving the train, of leaving him, but she could never bring herself to do it. It wasn't always the best place in the world, but it had become a sort of home. She'd resigned herself to the fact that she was probably going to die on that train. She thought that for a long time.</p><p>Until the day that Killian Jones hopped on board, and changed everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a world of our own

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after watching Water for Elephants last year. It's pretty close to the movie, but I also changed a few things as well.

_Summer, 1934_

It had been ten years. Ten years since she'd walked out of her last foster home, ten years since she'd stumbled upon the circus that had stopped in town. Ten years since she'd joined their strange band of misfits and never looked back.

There were plenty of days when she'd dream of leaving the train, of leaving _him,_ but she could never bring herself to do it. It wasn't always the best place in the world, but it had become a sort of home. She'd resigned herself to the fact that she was probably going to die on that train. She thought that for a long time.

Until the day that Killian Jones hopped on board, and changed everything.

* * *

 

Killian lived with his brother in a small house in a small town, close enough to the main road so that he could attend the local college and take classes towards becoming a lawyer-like he'd always dreamt.

Their house, simple and meek, was a happy one. Though the depression ravaged and tore apart at the world outside, in their home, they were safe from all of that. Their family had emigrated from Ireland when they were just teenagers, their mother passing away shortly after from sickness, and their drunk of a father leaving them all alone to fend for themselves. All they had was their house, the animals they kept, and each other. Liam was the eldest, so he took on the responsibility of working and paying the mortgage while Killian was in school. Killian would help him with the animals before and after classes, but it was about all he could do. He'd always said that once he became a lawyer and got to work, he'd start paying Liam back for everything.

But he was never able to. Life is cruel that way.

Liam died on a Thursday, on his way to work just like any other day. It had been raining, and he couldn't see the road, until the car coming opposite turned their headlights on. He overcorrected the car, and his life ended in a ditch. Cold, wet, and alone.

Killian was about to step into class to take his final exam when the professor pulled him to the side and told him the news. He collapsed on the floor in the hallway in a fit of sobs, wrecked by the fact that Liam was gone, he was alone, and had nothing to his name.

The bank took possession of his house a few days later, as he wasn't able to pay the mortgage. Without telling Killian, Liam had taken out a loan to pay for the house years ago, so that he could pay for his tuition at college. He'd probably thought that he'd always be around, that they would share their life together as a family until they grew old.

Killian used to think that, too.

He had no degree, no home, and no money. He had no family left to turn to, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He'd heard that there were more jobs in the cities, so he left with that in mind. There was nothing left for him in the little town.

He packed up a small bag of just the essentials: another change of clothes, money, an old key to their house, his favorite book (the leather jacket worn from use), some food, and a small picture of his mother and Liam.

He walked to the train tracks on the edge of town at dusk. He'd follow it until he got to the next town, and keep doing so until he made his way to New York, or some other city.

He'd walked for about an hour down the track, which was only lit by the light of the moon. He stopped for a moment to take a break, feet tired and sore from walking. It was a peaceful night, with the sky clear as ever, and the air cool, giving him a break from the humid heat of early summer. The stars shone brightly, spotting their way across the horizon. He took a deep breath, letting the peace and calm seep into his spirit, and on the exhale, he made a wish.

_I wish I didn't have to be alone._

Moments later, the pebbles at his feet are shaking and he hears the whistle of a train coming up the track. He turns to see the headlight of the train flashing through the trees, making its way towards him, and heading the same direction that he was going.

Quickly, he gathers his things and slings the bag over his shoulder. He'd need both hands free if he was going to successfully jump onto the moving train. The front of the train rolled past him, and he began to jog next to it until he found an opening to one of the boxcars. He picked up his pace, running as fast he could, until he mustered up the courage to jump. He grabbed the handle to the door of the box car, and haphazardly swung his foot inside, pulling himself up.

He was met by a pair of hands about his neck, another pair holding a lantern to his face.

"Who are you? We don't take bums on this train."

Another voice calls out from the back of the car. "Easy, mates. Let him go, and on the inside of the car, preferably."

The man holding his neck releases him with a grunt, and he falls to his knees. The man from the back comes forward, offering a hand to help him up.  
The man's name is Robin, and he tells Killian that he's jumped into a worker's car. He introduces him to the other two-David, who'd tried to strangle him, and Will, who'd held the lantern to his face. All of the men were rather gruff, skin weathered by sun and dirt.

"And who exactly do you all work for?" Killian asks, dusting off his pants and vest from the tussle.

David laughs from where he sat in the corner of the car. Will speaks up next, in a calmer tone than before.

"Welcome to _Gorham & Gold's Travelling Circus_, mate," he says. " _The most spectacular shit show on earth_."

* * *

 

Robin tells him that he can stay for the night, but as soon as day breaks, he's got to go. Their bosses didn't take well to train hoppers, who were usually thieves. He and Will had been thieves, in fact, but both were allowed to stay because they agreed to the manual labor. It was either that or be "red-lighted" as they called it, which meant being thrown out of the train when it was moving at full speed. They took the first option.

They'd been out on a raid together, when Will had the brilliant idea of robbing a moving train. He'd always been a bit reckless since his wife had left him, almost like he had nothing left to really live for. Robin had begrudgingly agreed, and he's regretted the moment ever since. David hadn't been a thief like them, but he was a traveler, trying to make his way back to his wife and son back home. He'd left them to help his brother out west, but when his brother died, he had no way to make it back. So he hopped the train and had agreed to work until they made it closer to home, at which point he was planning to leave the train and go find his family.

He'd only considered finding a job in a nearby city. He hadn't know that you could make money while you travelled as well. This train could very well take him anywhere he wanted to go, and he could save up money in the process. It sounded like a no-brainer.

"Do you think," Killian starts, "that I could get a job here for a bit as well?"

"What can you offer, mate?" Will asks.

"Manual labor, I suppose. And I've had some experience around animals as well."

Robin smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "That just might do the trick."

The train makes a quick stop the next morning, and Robin escorts Killian towards the front of the car so that he can meet the owner, Mr. Gold.

Gold's train car is exponentially nicer than those of the workers. It's lavish, with furniture and red carpeting, complete with a fully stocked bar cart, fine china, and a wardrobe full of clothing. Gold invites him to sit down and rings a small silver bell, tapping his cane against the leg of the chair in anticipation.

"What can I do for you, dearie?"

"I'd like a job."

Gold thinks about it for a moment, when they hear the creak of the door opening behind them. A woman steps inside, carrying a tray with a pot of tea - and Killian's heart just about stops in his chest. She is drop dead gorgeous in a tight fitting floor length black dress, blonde locks pinned up in soft curls that frame her face- bright green eyes and an expression that dared any onlooker to mess with her.

Gold thanks her (a 'Ms. Swan' as he calls her) and then she turns to leave. But not before stealing one last glance at Killian. Gold pours his cup of tea and takes a slow sip.

"I just red-lighted one of our animal handlers last week," he says. "We could use someone."

Killian smiles. "That would be great, really I don't know how to thank-"

God cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "That's all well and good, but be aware, Mr. Jones, that we do not take disobedience lightly here. One mistake, and you're out."

"I understand."

* * *

 

Killian is escorted back to the workers car, where Robin congratulates him on not getting killed.

The train stops a few hours later, just as dawn is breaking. The crew steps out into the dusty road and for the first time, he can see the words painted in red and gold across the cars: ' _Gorham & Gold's Traveling Circus - Like stepping into another world.' _He starts to make a snide comment about it, but Robin calls him to keep up. He gets him started hammering spokes into the ground for the tents, and slowly the place starts to come together.

"How often is this done, mate?"

"We hit a new town every 4 days," Robin replies. "One day for travel, three days of the shows. Opening night is tonight."

He's sweating through his white tank top already- the heat of early summer beating down on him. It takes about an hour to set up the entire site- the other workers running around and doing their parts like a well-oiled machine. Some were transporting animal cages, others walking horses or carrying the large plywood panels that would become the attraction booths. His thoughts drifted again to the blonde from the night before. He wondered who she was, and what her job was at the circus.

He asks Robin.

"Ah, yes. That would be Emma Swan. She's the star of the show."

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Robin laughs. "Don't get too caught up, mate. She's with Walsh."

"Who's Walsh?" he asks.

Will laughs. David pats him on the shoulder. "You've got a lot to learn, pal."

* * *

 

Later in the mess tent, when everyone has settled to eat lunch, his eyes scan the room once again for her.

"She's not here, mate," says Will. "She's part of the head team-being Walsh's girl and the head of the show and all. They never eat with our lot."

"Shame," Killian mumbles, turning back to his food.

He doesn't get much down before he hears Robin calling his name. He leaves the food (and is somewhat happy to – it's certainly not the best he'd ever had) and walks out into the sun towards Robin.

"Killian," he says, "I'd like to introduce you to Walsh Gorham. He's the ringmaster here."

He shakes hands with Walsh, and automatically gets a bad feeling from him (not to mention he was a bit curious as to what his relationship with Ms. Swan was like). The man was cheery on the outside, but there was something else behind his eyes, something that made Killian uneasy.

"So I hear you're my new animal doctor?" says Walsh.

"I don't know about doctor," he answers, "but I'm very good with animals. Especially horses."

"That'll do just fine," he says. "Follow me. I'll show you your work site."

Killian nods and follows him through a maze of tents, now deserted of workers who were all eating lunch. The tents soared and billowed high above them-it was a sight to behold. They walked through the menagerie, and he saw rows upon rows of cage cars, adorned in red and gold, each with an animal inside-some had lions, monkeys, and tigers. There was even elephants and giraffes tied in the corner. They kept walking until they came to a row of three medium sized tents, and Walsh stopped.

"These are the horse stables," he says. "Emma!"

A few moments later, she was emerging from behind the white flaps of the first tent.

Ms. Swan. It was _her_.

He locks eyes with her and his heart nearly stops again, but he composes himself in time.

"Jones," Walsh says, "this is Emma. You may call her Ms. Swan. Horses are the main part of her act, so you may be seeing a lot of each other. If you have questions about any of the animals, she's the one you ask. Got it? "

"Got it," he nods.

"I guess I'll leave you to it, then," says Walsh.

Walsh steps towards Emma. "And I will see you-"he says, pausing to plant a kiss on her temple, "-later." She smiles up at him, seemingly happy to have received his affection. What she doesn't notice however, is that Killian sees the way her expression drops once Walsh turns his back.

She looks up at him then and gives him a little smile. She was beautiful in a different way than how he'd last seen her. She had traded her elegant black dress for light tan slacks and a white tee. Her hair was braided loosely to one side, her head adorned with a wide brimmed hat.

"First day on the job, huh?" she asks. Even her voice was beautiful.

"Aye."

(She's surprised to hear his accent, something entirely different than she's used to hearing around there). She smiles, eyeing him up and down. "Well, try to keep up, newbie."

"I'll do my best," he says, smiling. "After you, m'lady."

* * *

 

They step into the cool shade of the tent, and he sighs in relief. She notices, and hands him a canteen with water. "Here," she says. "You can keep this. I have another one."

"That's very kind of you, Ms. Swan."

"No problem. I know how the workers live around here. And you can just call me Emma," she says, picking up a brush for the horse. "Out there, to those guys, I'm Ms. Swan, but in here, I'm just me. Just Emma."

" _Just_ Emma?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "And just who are you, Emma?"

The way her name sounds in his mouth is practically intoxicating. She doesn't understand why he's so interested in her, but his question takes her aback. She picks up a wooden brush and begins to groom the nearest horse.

She laughs to herself. "Wouldn't you like to know."

He pauses a moment, before raising his eyes to meet hers. "Perhaps I would."

And damn it, she believed him. But she also didn't know him, which meant she couldn't be open with him. Not yet.

"Look, uh-what was your name again?"

He takes a long swig from the canteen and stands up in front of the horse's face. He gently raises a hand to pet the animal, which whinnies and sighs happily in reply.

"My name is Killian. Killian Jones."

"Look, Killian. First thing you need to understand about this life is that no one really talks about their lives before the train. All of these people were trying to escape one thing or another, and it's not really a hot topic of conversation around here. The past is in the past, and we leave it there."

"Fair enough," he says.

"Well then," she says, laying down the brush and reaching out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Killian Jones."

He smiles a little and takes her hand in his to shake, taking note of how very soft her hands were against his. Swiftly, he raises her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"Very nice to meet you as well, Swan."

She introduces him to each horse. He can tell she's been there a long time at the way she treats the animals- not just like animals but as though she really knew them. Like they were family.

She showed him how to feed them and how much food to give, as well as how often they needed to be walked, brushed, and groomed.

(He was trying his best to pay attention to every detail, but she was very distracting, green eyes and blonde hair lighting up the space like the damned sun).

They take a couple of the horses out for a walk in the field behind the circus grounds - first pulling them along by the straps, until Emma couldn't wait any longer and mounted her horse. Killian followed her lead as she kicked her heels, laughing as her horse galloped all around the field. After a few minutes, she let him catch up to her, and they slowed the horses down to an easy walk, as they continued their conversation.

"You're a natural at this, Emma."

"This is the best part of the job- the animals," she says. "I work with the horses the most. Most of these were bought at auctions or off of farms along the way. A couple here were even wild horses that they'd caught when they were young and then tamed."

He smiles back at her, and she guides her horse away towards a nearby grove of trees.

"What about you? How'd you get here?" she asks when they stop to rest.

He snickers. "I thought we didn't talk about our pasts here?"

She smiles at him, and his heart squeezes in his chest. "It's still your first day, newbie. You may have a job, but you're not part of the crew yet. It doesn't quite count."

"How do you mean?"

"Well," she says, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. "We get train hoppers pretty often, but a lot of them don't last long. They either jump off themselves or they get fired."

"Or red-lighted."

Her head jerks to look at him, clearly surprised that he already knew what that was.

"Robin told me about it," he says. She nods in understanding, before resting her head back against the tree.

"Well, Jones…go ahead. I'm listening."

He hasn't talked to anyone about Liam for weeks. But he could tell that getting Emma to truly reveal herself to him was going to be a challenge. There was a certain toughness about her-like she was always protecting herself. He had no problem telling her the truth, and he hoped that perhaps it would gain him more of her trust over time. He sighs and begins to tell her the sad story.

She watches him with concerned eyes, and when he's done, she reaches down into her satchel and pulls out a flask, and two small tin cups. She twists the top open, pouring a little of the amber liquid into each cup.  
She hands one to him, and he sniffs it to decipher its contents. "Rum?"

"Only the best."

"This must be quite the luxury item around here," he mumbles.

She laughs a little. "All I know is, don't drink whatever Will Scarlet gives you. It'll knock you straight into tomorrow, easy."

He laughs. "Good to know."

Emma holds her cup in the air as if to toast. "I'm so sorry about your brother, Killian. To Liam-"

He hits his cup against hers. "To Liam." He takes the drink down in one gulp, letting it burn and warm him up. He leans back against the trunk of the tree, looking up to watch the sun dance through the leaves.

"Life's not all bad, love."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," He says, "that whatever bad has happened in my life is okay. Because it all in some way has led me here. To you."

He thinks that must have been pushing it, even though it was 100 percent true, because the next thing he knows she's taking the cup from him and mounting her horse.

"We should be going," she says. She turns the horse to face the camp, but before she trots away, she turns to say one last thing, a smile stretching across her face.

"Oh, and I'm not your _love_."

This woman was going to be the death of him.

* * *

 

She leaves him with the horses and instructions on how to get them ready for the show. Another girl named Belle comes in around that time to help, and also takes the time to explain to Killian more of how everything works around the site-the dynamics of it all. He found her to be very informative, especially when she told him where he could find Emma if need be.

Later that evening, after the horses were prepped and the sun began to set, he went for another walk through the grounds. Tourists begin to slowly trickle in, clearly attracted by the sights and sounds. The hustle and bustle of the attractions coming to life were mixed with the sounds of swing music. There were many attractions to see, most of which were fun and family friendly, but the circus had its bizarre and sleazy side as well.

In one tent, women were dancing and stripping their clothes, to the applause and cheers of large crowds of men. In another, a woman named Ruby had been presented as "the wolf woman." She wore a cloak of fur and two of her teeth had been filed into fangs, and she was given red lenses for her eyes to look even more frightening.

There were many other strange sights such as those, but the main attraction was the big top-where all of the magic took place. He managed to catch most of the show that night, and was astounded at the sheer amount of talent it took to make all the magic happen.

There was a trapeze artist couple, who would swing from a podium on one side of the tent to another. There was another woman walking a tightrope, holding an umbrella and smiling as she gingerly made her way across. Down below them in the rings, men were riding penny-farthings and juggling random objects, clowns running amuck and causing trouble. And then of course, there were the animals.

The main act-the most intoxicating to watch-was Emma's.

Walsh announced her to the crowd, and through a cloud of smoke, she appeared. She was radiant in a white beaded leotard and white stockings. She wore a silver and diamond studded tiara, her hair curled back up to frame her face, just like that first night on the train. With gloved hands, her gentle movements commanded the horses to do her bidding-but she was never forceful with them. She more or less was inviting the horses to join her, to give the crowd a dose a beauty and magic they'd never witnessed before. With a wave of her hand or the twist of her wrist, the horses would sit, stand, run in a circle, or lay down before her. She must have spent years training them, because every movement between them seemed effortless.

The words painted on the side of the train car had been right. Watching Emma was like stepping into another world. She was stunning to watch, and the crowd loved her.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't half in love with her already.

Back in the car, he asks the other men what they know about Walsh.

"His family used to own this 'ole circus," says Will. "'Till his father died and left him with nothing."

David chimes in. "He sold it to Gold when the depression hit. But Gold let him keep his name in the title, to keep a steady image, I guess."

"Doesn't really matter whose name is on the damn train," Robin says. "We're the backbone of this whole thing, and we're barely making it back here, while those two sit nice and cozy in the front car."

"Aye, I've seen it," Killian says. "Like stepping into another world."

"I don't trust neither of 'em," says Will. "They're both a couple of foul gits, if you ask me."

* * *

 

Weeks stretched on as summer grew hotter and Killian finally fell into a routine with the crew. To celebrate his first month on the train, the guys had gathered some of the other workers and performers (none from the big-top, of course-wouldn't want Walsh finding out) to their car for a little shindig. He knew he was officially part of the crew when he awoke the next morning in the menagerie with the world's worst hangover and not a shred of clothing on, and was forced to walk all the way back to his train car as the rest of the troop looked on and cheered. That afternoon at the stables, he tells Emma that from then on he'd take her advice and not drink an ounce of whatever Will gives him.

He spent every afternoon with Emma, save for the days of travel between towns. He found that time to be good, because he'd miss her company so much, that seeing her face again after those few hours was like a breath of fresh air. Plus, she smelled much better than David or Robin or any of the guys he was forced to share quarters with.

* * *

 

She had to admit, she missed him on travel days. Ever since meeting Killian, she'd found in him a sort of friend. It was clear that he liked her, but he must have read all of the signs she'd shown over their first few hours together, because after that he never really flirted or made her feel uncomfortable. At this point, he just wanted to be her friend. They had to spend every afternoon together, so she allowed it. She could use a friend, anyway.

She wasn't very close to any of the other women in the crew, except maybe Belle. Gold had taken a liking to her, and would invite her to join them for dinner in the main car. The men would leave after to smoke their cigars and drink their brandy (which she could never understand, because their own workers were practically starving just a few cars down), and she and Belle would sit together and talk. Talk of the day's work, what the town was like, what they would wish to do if they ever got off the train.

* * *

 

One day, about two months after Killian's arrival, they're sitting together in a patch of shade eating horses with the apples, when she asks him about his mother.

He pulls out the picture of his mother and Liam-which he kept on him at all times-and showed it to Emma. She trailed her fingers over the soft print, smiling.

"She's lovely. And Liam looks very dashing."

"Aye, she was. And she was always singing. She read us stories, books of poetry…took care of us for as long as she could, dear woman."

"I wish I could have met them," she says, without even thinking twice.

He turns and smiles at her softly. "Me too, Emma. Me too."

* * *

 

The other performers give her curious looks when she strolls into the mess tent one day and plops herself down beside Killian to eat lunch.

And she doesn't care one bit.

* * *

 

A few weeks later, the rain is keeping them from walking the horses outdoors, so they take them to the big tent instead. It was a huge space, with just the two of them and a couple horses.

She didn't know what made her do it, but when they stopped to rest for a moment, it all just came tumbling out.

"I was an orphan."

His blue eyes dart up to hers in alarm, because she's never opened up about her past-not in the almost three months they've shared together. She's got a look of panic on her face, like she regrets saying it. Like he might just walk away now and not turn back.

Instead, he invites her to come and sit next to him on the bleachers.

"Go on, Swan. I'd love to hear more of your beginnings."

She smiles at him and looks down, twiddling her thumbs anxiously. She takes a deep breath and continues.

"I was in and out of foster homes until I was 17…until I just couldn't take it anymore. So I ran away. And it just so happened that the day I chose to leave was the day the circus had rolled into town."

He nods in understanding, because he too had been a runaway when he joined the train.

"So how long have you been here, then?"

"Ten years."

"My, that's a long time. Have you ever thought about doing anything different?"

"It is a long time, but…I don't know. This train has been the only thing close to home I've ever felt. It may not be great all the time, but it's all I've got."

He wants to tell her that she can _have_ more, _be_ more, if she wants it of course, but he holds back.

They continue their routine with ease, growing ever more comfortable with each other. She'd told him who she was, who she r _eally was_ -just a runaway orphan, and he didn't even flinch. From that point on, she felt more at ease with him than any other person aboard the train.

Emma looked forward to her afternoons with Killian, sometimes leaving the main car earlier than usual just to get in more time with him. She told herself it was because she wanted to care for the horses, but really, she just couldn't stand being around Walsh anymore. Not with his high and mighty, do-whatever-I-say-because-I'm-the-boss attitude, anyway.

* * *

 

He tells her one day by a stream in the forest what it had been like to move to America when he was little, and what it was like to have to identify Liam's body. She tells him about the family she got the name "Swan" from, and how they'd turned her back into the agency when the woman got pregnant with her own child.

* * *

 

Damn it, he was starting to have very real feelings for this woman. He couldn't get her out of his mind. But she was engaged, for god's sake.

" _Engaged's not married, mate."_ – That's what Liam would have told him, anyway. He kept that thought in the back of his mind, and continued to just be her friend, her companion. He hoped that in time, she would come to feel the same way about him, and then they could figure out where to go from there.

He'd just finished reading a passage from his book of poetry to her one day, when she tells him about Graham. He'd joined the crew a few years back, and had been her friend, but went missing about two years ago. She said he'd always talked about leaving the train, and thinks he might have done it without her. He feels a slight pang in his chest, and thinks it might be jealousy, but shakes it off when he sees the saddened look on Emma's face, not wishing anything to cause her pain.

(He knew then, that the only way he was leaving that train was if she was coming with him).

* * *

 

One day, about four months after Killian had jumped the train, Emma notices something wrong with one of the horses. "I think he's in pain. It's like it hurts him to walk or something."

Killian takes a look at the horse's hooves, and grimaces. "Laminitis," he mumbles. This was something he and Liam had dealt with early on in their adventures in taking care of the animals alone. Their father hadn't explained about hoof care for the horses, and one of them ended up in so much pain that Liam had to shoot it himself. He detested the thought of having to do that to one of Emma's beloved horses.

He turns to Emma with a graven look on his face, and she looks as if she's about to cry.

"How bad is it?"

"It's not good, love."

Emma steps closer to the horse, soothing it and stroking its mane. "It's gonna be okay, buddy. We'll figure this out." Then she turns back to Killian. "What can we do?"

"Emma, there's nothing that can be done. I'm sorry, love…"

It's as though he can feel his own heart breaking along with hers. He'd come to know and love these animals, too, and it kills him that he didn't notice the injury sooner.

"Emma, he's in a lot of pain," he continues. "He needs to be put down."

She looks at him, tears falling down her cheeks, and nods in understanding. "Walsh doesn't need to know. If he did, he wouldn't allow it," she sniffles, and continues, "He'd try to get as many shows out of him as possible."

Killian steps forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "If you want, I'll do it for you. It will be quick, and he won't be in pain anymore."

Her face is red and crumpling and she's crying harder now. He pulls her into his chest to ease her, kissing the top of her head as she cries, doing his best to hold back his own tears. He felt helpless when it came to the horse, but he could at least comfort Emma.

They take the horse out into the back field together, at Emma's insistence, and he lets her say goodbye before taking the gun out and doing what needed to be done.

She doesn't watch, but shudders when she hears the shot, and falls to her knees in the grass. A small flock of birds fly out overhead, startled from the sound, and he moves to sit down next to her, holding her and letting her cry until she can't cry anymore.

* * *

 

That night as the train is making its way out of town, he's walking back into his car when a large man hits him in the face, knocking him to the floor. He thinks for a split second that it might have been David or Robin playing a joke on him, but that thought is squashed when both of his hands and feet are grabbed, his body being swung back and forth like a bag of flour towards the open door of the train car.

He sees the trees blurring past him as the train picks up speed.

"One!" he hears a man yell.

"Two!" shouts another.

It dawns on him that he's about to be red-lighted, and thinks that maybe now would be a good time to say something.

"No! NO!" he yells.

"THREE!"

Suddenly he's being thrown back into the train car, his back hitting hard against the other side before he falls to the ground in a heap.

The group of men surrounding him part, and Walsh strolls in through the middle to lean over him. "You killed part of my star act, Jones. Did you think I wouldn't notice?!"

"Please," Killian grunts, "If you'd just allow me to explain-"

"No, no," Walsh replies. "I get it. The horse was sick, in pain. It needed to go. What angers me is that you thought you could do something like that without getting my permission first."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say-"

"Enough!" Walsh shouts. "The only reason you're not lying face down in a pile of rocks right now is because you have saved Emma from potential harm. If anything had happened to her, I don't know what I'd do. So you, Killian Jones, are a very lucky man."

He stretches out a hand to Killian to help him up. Killian takes it cautiously and stands.

"Do anything like that again, Jones, and I may not be so merciful."

"Yes, sir."

And just like that, the men are gone.

* * *

 

Things fall back into routine. Emma questions him about his black eye, but he says that Will did it on accident, thinking he was a train hopper. She obviously doesn't believe him, but doesn't question it further.

(Something in him knows that she suspects Walsh, but the subject is dropped without further investigation…more trouble than it was worth).

Not too long after the red-lighting incident, Killian is walking towards the big top, when Robin stops him, placing a hand at his chest. "Killian. Something's happened."

"What?"

"One of the horses, it threw Emma during the show. Nobody knows why, but-"

"Where is she?"

"She's in her car up front, mate, but you shouldn't-"

Robin isn't able to finish telling Killian not to go, because he's already sprinting back towards her train car.

"Come in," he hears a voice say.

She's alone, laying on her bed with her foot propped up on a pillow, and holding an ice pack to her head.

"Emma," Killian says, almost breathless, as he makes his way inside and sits down at her side on the bed. He takes the ice pack from her hand and holds it above her eye for her, so she can rest her arm. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm fine…just a sprain and some bruises. Someone in the crowd got too close, I think, and scared the horse."

"I'm sorry, love."

(She doesn't correct him anymore when he says that).

"We're all just glad you're okay," he continues. " _I'm_ glad you're okay."

The moment grows tense between them, each becoming more aware of how close they are, how close they'd become over the last few months, physically and otherwise.

Emma shakes her head in disbelief at him. "Where were you when I was 17, huh?"

"What do you mean, love?"

She would have told him, but a moment later, Walsh enters the car. Killian stands quickly, so as not to alarm him.

"Jones, what are you doing in here?"

"Nothing, sir, just came to check on our star, that's all."

Walsh looks suspiciously back and forth between the two of them. Emma tries to ease his worry. "Walsh, darling, I'm feeling much better. Thank you Mr. Jones, you may leave now. Someone needs to check on the horse."

"As you wish, Ms. Swan." Killian nods to Walsh before heading out the door, but not before stealing one last glance at Emma.

* * *

 

About a week later, to celebrate Emma's recovery and return to the show, Walsh invites Killian to join the two of them for drinks out in the nearby city.

Killian accepts the offer, happy to spend an evening away from the train for once, especially if it meant he could be around Emma. Walsh lets him borrow a tux, and the trio sets out.

They find a little speakeasy right on the outskirts of the city that had yet to be dismantled by prohibition. Walsh hangs close to Emma's side all evening, giving her kisses on the cheek, making remarks about how beautiful she is. Killian sees right through him, and he suspects that Emma does, too. Walsh is trying to make up for his mistakes-of being controlling and vengeful and a hypocrite (not that he realized that last part).

But Emma plays along, drinking his champagne and acting as though all is well. Finally, at one point in the evening, Walsh leaves the table to find more alcohol, and Emma turns to Killian.

"Wanna dance, newbie?"

He smiled at the term, even though he'd been with the troop for close to half a year now. He leans in closer to her. "Are you sure that's a good idea, love?"

"I'm not really sure of anything anymore, Killian. But right now, I want to dance. Come on," she says, standing up and offering her hand. He happily takes it, leading her out onto the dance floor.

The music slows to a sultry little number, and he pulls her close, feeling the cool satin of her red dress as his hand drifts to her lower back. His other hand holds one of hers, and her arm drapes over his shoulders.

"Killian?"

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to apologize for last night…I should have never let you in my room. Walsh…"

He shakes his head. "It's alright, Swan. No harm done."

"Not yet, anyway," she says, and he could have sworn that she held onto him tighter. She continues as they sway together, "I just…when I said last night that I wish I could have met you sooner, I meant that I could have had a very different life, that's all."

He waits one beat, then two.

"You still can, Emma."

She looks up at him, surprised at his response, but with eyes full of hope.

"You really think so?"

"A beautiful woman like you deserves a beautiful life."

He'd said it for her, but part of him also wondered if there were more out there for him, too. This was the first time since Liam's death that he'd truly felt something close to hope. She smiles and hums happily, laying her head against his shoulder as they continue to dance.

All is well, until the doors of the club bust open, and policeman flood the entrance.

"Everybody out! This is a raid!"

They'd known the danger of going to one of the speakeasies, and that if you were caught at one, you'd be arrested and thrown in jail for the night.

Everyone in the club is yelling as the cops push their way in. The crowd begins pushing back towards the rear exits, and at some point, Killian is separated from Emma. He can see her blonde curls bouncing in the crowd ahead of him, and he tries to call out to her. But his shouts are mixed with the shouts of others and the sound of breaking glass as tables were overturned in the frenzy.

The flow of the crowd pushes him up the back stairway of the club and onto the street, and to his relief, Emma is there waiting for him in the rain. "Come on," she says, "this way!"

She grabs his hand and they start running through the puddles and pushing past the others, weaving their way through the alleyways, until they find one deserted. She pulls him in behind her as she laughs, trying to catch her breath.

"That was a close one," he says, doing the same.

It must have been their earlier conversation, or the fact that their adrenaline was through the roof, (or the fact that the rain is making her dress _very_ tight), but the next thing he knows, his lips are on hers.

She sighs into his mouth, her hand moving up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He does the same, allowing his hand to tangle in her soft curls. His lips press against hers, tongue begging for entrance, and she lets him. She starts breathing heavier, and he slowly backs her up to the brick wall behind her.

Her mouth leaves his and she's saying his name, almost like a prayer. He can't take it anymore- months of secret longing and pining have all led to this. His other hand wraps around her waist as he gently presses his hips against hers. She sighs again into his mouth, and he moves his lips to her ear, and then down to the pulse point of her neck. He continues to kiss her sweet, rain soaked skin until she says his name aloud.

He sighs happily and rests his forehead against hers.

"Emma, that was…"

"A one-time thing." Suddenly her hands are on his chest, as if to stop him. He looks up at her, and she can see that he is completely wrecked, utterly wanting her.

"Killian," she says through shaky breaths. "We can't do this."

"Emma, you must know how I feel-"

"Stop, please. I have to go."

He pauses for a moment, and then pushes off of the brick to let her stand.

"Don't follow me," she says. "Wait five minutes. And if anyone asks, just say you got lost."

"As you wish."

And even though her heart is screaming at her to turn around, she leaves him there in the alley, cold, wet, and alone.

* * *

 

She doesn't see him the next day at the stables, or the mess tent, or before her evening show. She tries not to let it bother her, but it's hard. Usually when people went missing from the train, it meant they'd been red-lighted. And almost no one that had been thrown from the moving train had survived.

She becomes even more worried when Walsh gives her flowers and wishes her luck before the show. He never did that. He was almost never genuine; the only reason he acted so sweetly was because he'd done something that Emma wouldn't approve of, and was trying in his own strange and demented way to atone for it.

Which brings her thoughts back to Killian. Was it possible that they'd been spotted last night in the alley? Did he really get lost? Or did Walsh have him red-lighted?

Emma does her best to keep a straight face on during her show, not willing to bring suspicion to the fact that she knew something was wrong. It was unlike Killian to not show up to his work duty on time, and even if they hadn't kissed last night, he was still her friend, and she cared about him more than anyone else on that damn train. She'd found a much needed solace in him, finding their afternoon talks to be the most enriching and stimulating part of her day. She'd come to know his deep blue eyes, the way his hair over his forehead when he laughed, and that small dimples would appear on the ends of his smile whenever he did so.

She knew that it was unwise to truly care for anyone in this business. One day they'd be part of your act, and the next they'd be missing, having left the train because they were fired, or worse, dead. She couldn't lift a finger without Walsh or Gold knowing about it, and as their star act, she had no choice but to go with the flow.

But Killian-he was the best friend she'd ever had there. It must have been fate or luck or destiny or some other cosmic power conspiring to help her-but whatever had brought them together, she was thankful. She'd grown to care for him so deeply, that she was willing to put her feelings aside to keep him safe from Walsh, whatever it took. If it meant marrying Walsh to ensure that Killian's life would be spared, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

* * *

 

He's finally back at the stables the next day, but he doesn't look at her when she arrives, and his hat is obscuring much of his face from view.

"Killian!"

She strides over to him, and he looks down at his feet, unwilling to look at her. "Morning, Swan."

"Where the hell where you yesterday?"

He's brushing one of the horses, and moves around to the other side of the animal, away from her. "Feeling a bit under the weather, that's all. Perhaps it was the rain."

She's growing frustrated with him-because _he_ was the one who kissed her and _he_ was the one who didn't show up and _he_ was the one who'd made her think that she could be more and do more and-

"Take off the hat."

"I'm fine, love, really."

"Take it off, Killian."

He must have known that he couldn't win the battle, so slowly, he removes the hat.

She gasps as she sees the cuts and bruises across his face, especially the black shiner he's got around his left eye now. She quickly walks around to his side, raising her hand and gently touching her palm to his cheek. He winces in pain, and the tears are threatening to fall as she sighs in understanding.

"Oh, Killian…"

His hand comes to wrest on hers as he closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch. Then he lets go. "Just a couple of scrapes and bruises, love. Nothing to worry about."

"Walsh did this to you. I know he did. And it was him last time, too, wasn't it?!"

"It's hard to say. I was walking back to my car last night when I was attacked. I couldn't see who it was."

She sighs, the sadness in her eyes turning into anger and determination. She walks away from him, towards the front of the train.

"Where are you going?"

"To pay my fiancé a visit," she answers.

* * *

 

Emma bursts into the parlor, as Walsh and some other men are set to play a game of poker. Walsh doesn't even look at her, only the cards in his hand.

"How's your afternoon going, darling?"

"Walsh, get up. We need to talk."

"Excuse me, boys." He smiled at the other men, winking at one, before following Emma into their bedroom.

Emma slides the door shut to their room and crosses her arms, scowling at him.

"What grievance am I to pay for now?"

"Shut up."

He sucks air in through his gritted teeth. "Ooh, feisty Swan. I quite like you when you're like this."

She's shaking her head in disbelief. "You fucking bastard…"

He leans against the post of the canopy bed. "Excuse me?"

"I know it was you," she starts. "You sent those men to hurt Killian."

"The stable boy?" Walsh scoffs. "I could care less about him. But it seems," he said, taking a step closer to her, "that you do."

"There's nothing going on!"

He takes another step towards her, one brow arching as if to question her. "So by _nothing,_ you mean-kissing him while I'm not around? Leaving me alone to be caught by the police while you let him take advantage of you?"

"Take advantage of me?! YOU are the one taking advantage here, Walsh."

"So you don't deny it, then? That you kissed him?"

She takes a moment, inhaling through her nostrils as her fists clench at her sides.

"No."

Walsh laughs in disbelief. "Unbelievable. After everything I've done for you, Emma. You throw it all away for some foolish lover, and just a lowly stable boy, at that."

"He's my friend," she says, voice beginning to quiver. She knew deep down that Killian was so much more than just her friend, but she didn't know how to make Walsh see differently. She had to protect him. "He's my friend..."

"So was, oh…what was his name? Graham? And look what happened to him."

The realization hits and her nervousness turns to anger in a heartbeat. "You bastard!" Emma steps forward and slaps Walsh in the face, and _hard._ But she doesn't get far before he's grabbed her wrist, and his other hand is on her face, squeezing her jaw tightly so that she can't speak. She grabs his forearm and tries to pry it off, but it won't budge.

"Where is your gratitude?" he yells as Emma struggles beneath his grip. He backs her up against the wall so she can't move, and puts his face inches away from hers. She squints and tries not to cry, feeling like her wrists and jaw were definitely going to bruise from this. He turns her head sharply to speak into her ear.

"When I found you," he seethes, "you were nothing but a worthless orphan…and now you are a star. Well, my dear, never forget that I have always seen you for what you are. You are _NOTHING_ without me!"

Emma continued to struggle against his grip, her free hand fumbling behind her for something to grab and use as defense. She finds what she thinks to be a whiskey glass from the bar cart, and quickly uses all of her remaining strength to hit him in the temple with it.

Walsh screams and crashes to the floor in a heap, grasping at the side of his head as blood trickles through his fingers. Emma seethes at him through gritted teeth as she makes to leave.

"You-don't-own-me," she breathes out. "And if you come after me or Killian again, I will kill you."

* * *

 

She walks out of the train car, fighting back the tears burning at the edges of her eyes.

There was no going back now.

She runs as fast as she can back to the stables.

Killian turns to see her, alarmed at her current state. She's frantic, blood splattered on her shirt, eyes red from crying.

"Emma, what did you do?"

"We have to leave. Now."

He steps forward, holding her face with one hand as he pulls her close with the other.

"Emma," he says, looking into her eyes, "do you really want this? To leave…to be with me?"

Her lips tremble and she shakes her head _yes,_ and it's only a brief moment before his lips are crashing into hers once again.

* * *

 

They give word to Robin to only tell their friends they were gone. Killian then gives him his old address, in the hopes that one day maybe they would all see each other again. Robin wishes them luck, and then they were gone.

They find a little hotel in the city nearby, and plan to stay there until the train leaves, and then catch another one in the opposite direction.

He opens the door to the room, clean and free from the smell of animals, sweat, and blood, and they have to stop in their tracks. The sun is setting outside their window, illuminating the room in a soft rosy glow.

_Like stepping into another world._

She's still a bit in shock, so he helps her undress, careful to unbutton her shirt without touching the blood. He makes to turn away so she can undress further to bathe, but she holds his face in her hands and kisses him.

His shaking hands push the shirt from her shoulders and it falls to the floor. She unties the cinched waistband of her pants, pushing them down and kicking them off with ease.

"You next. It's only fair, newbie."

He smiles, raising a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "You're so beautiful, Emma."

"Hush, Jones."

She kisses him again, and he breaks to reach his hands behind his neck to pull off his white tank. Her hands run along his shoulder muscles (now strong from months of hammering spokes in to the earth), and brushes the thick hair of his chest as his arms wrap around her. Gently, he moves his lips down to kiss her neck and collarbone, still in awe of the fact that she actually left the train-the fact that she chose him.

She sighs and smiles, and begins to undo the clasp of her bra. She lets it fall (and smiles at his wide eyes) and then removes her lace panties before walking over to the claw foot tub and turning on the water.

He continues undressing as it fills up, steam rolling up and around them in the small bathroom.

He gets in first, the hot water stinging at first but then numbing his aching limbs, and he sighs happily. She smiles and slowly steps in, cringing at the temperature but then settling in to straddle him. She kisses his chest above his heart, and his collarbone, and his neck, and his ear…

It's the kiss on his ear that has him sucking in a breath, his hands grasping onto her hips. He growls low and deep and she sits back up to smile at him.

"Come love," he says, "lay down and rest. We can save the fun for later."

She kisses him again, all hot and open mouthed, and she so desperately wishes that he'd just take her right there and then, but deep down she knows he's right.

He scoots over and she lays on his side, or at least as much as she can in the small tub, and lays into his chest, letting the water ebb and flow back and forth across their bodies. They lay together like that, letting the water wash away their pain, their shock, and all of the horrible things they'd experienced on the train. Emma had never felt so much _peace,_ which is not something she imagined when she imagined a life away from the train. But with Killian, she felt free. Like anything was possible. She was freer with him than she'd ever been on the train.

He jerks his head up, after drifting off to sleep for only a moment. His hands are clenching at the sides of the tub, but when Emma stirs next to him, he sighs in relief. The water is now cold and he slowly wakes her, willing her to get up so that they can dry off and go to bed.

She's shaking as she dries off, but once he joins her under the sheets, pulling her back against his chest, she feels warm once again.

"I love you, Emma," he says softly into her hair.

She turns to face him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and settling into him.

"I love you, too."

Almost as soon as her head hits the pillow, she falls asleep.

* * *

 

She wakes again to his head buried in her chest. She sighs and smiles, scratching the top of his head with her fingernails to wake him up. He stirs and looks up, eyes heavy with sleep, but they light up when they fall on her.

The sun is shining into their bedroom and its morning and _they made it_ and she is so beautiful. He's wrapped around her with his head on her chest, legs tangled together with hers beneath the sheets, and he's never been happier in all his life.

He turns his face up to kiss her, softly and sweetly.

"Good morning, Swan."

She smiles.

"Good morning, Jones."

"Welcome to the rest of your beautiful life."

* * *

 

_Summer, 1936_

Her belly is round and full with their first child on the way. She wakes every morning to Killian, wrapped up with her in the sheets in their bed, in their own home, and she has never felt happier in all her life.

After leaving the train, they had made their way back to Killian's home town and gotten married, settling into a small apartment for a while. Killian went back to school and finished his degree, finding a job at a small firm in town shortly after. He saved up and bought her a beautiful little house to celebrate, bright white with blue shutters (and not a touch of red or gold in sight).

About a year after they were settled, Robin and Will show up at their door, and they learn that Gorham & Gold's went out of business (turns out the other workers were pretty fed up, too). The animals had all been sold back to zoos and farms, and David finally got back to his wife and son. Gold and Belle had gotten married, but she'd left him when she found out he was stealing money from the workers. For a while, no one knew what had become of Walsh, who'd jumped the train with as much money as he could carry weeks before it all went under. That was, until some of the workers travelling back through found his body, broken and battered against the rocks next to the train track.

Robin and Will stay with them as guests for a while, until Emma shares the news that they will have a third visitor (extended stay). The men wish them luck and leave town, going their separate ways. Both Emma and Killian had been thankful to see their old friends, and to hear that those they had cared for back on the train were much better off now than they'd ever been. They reminded the men that no matter what, they were family, and always welcome if they needed it.

The house has a bit of land, and for her 30th birthday, he buys her a horse.

Or two.

* * *

 

_Summer, 1941_

It was Liam's fifth birthday, and as a treat, they'd told him that they would go into town to celebrate.

Emma holds Killian's hand as he holds Liam's (his other was occupied by a rather large cone full of chocolate ice cream). They walk along the row of shops and merchant booths, soaking in the sunshine of another gorgeous summer day.

Off in the distance, Killian can swear he hears the sound of swing music.

They approach a store front, where a large blue and gold poster is on display. In the center is a woman, clad in a bright blue outfit and diamond tiara, riding atop an elephant. The sign reads,

"Come one, come all, to Ringling Brothers Circus- _The Greatest Show on Earth."_

"Mommy, Daddy!" Liam shouts, "Can we go, please?!"

Killian turns to Emma and smiles.

(They don't say no).


End file.
